


i'll be your flowers if you'll be my garden

by itshabitchual



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Gift, Lord the flower mention is so subtle here squint and youll miss it, alejandra is such a sweetie tho, how do i tag shit on here, lord i always feel weird controlling other peoples OCs, writing muriel is a struggle HE DOESNT TALK MUCH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 16:50:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20011618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itshabitchual/pseuds/itshabitchual
Summary: Muriel's love language is entirely small helpful gestures. Change my mind. My Fields of Vesuvia gift ficlet for @Collective-Laugh





	i'll be your flowers if you'll be my garden

“--And you’re positive you’re prepared for the winter?” The Countess asks, doubt in her voice as she turns a concerned eye from the horizon, heavy and grey, to the pair before her. “This season…It will be more severe than the others.” Call it a hunch, some inkling from the occasionally glowing mark between her eyebrows.

“We’ll be fine, Nadi. We have lots of fur, lots of extra herbs..and Inanna!” Alejandra reassures the Countess, her statement punctuated with a boof from Inanna, somewhere between a bark and a snort. Muriel merely nods at her side, one hand resting around her waist, the other nursing a miniscule teacup. 

“We’ll live,” He echoes.

~X~

It had been years since the Lucio incident-- the one that ended in his (hopefully) very final demise, the one that made both Alejandra and Muriel decidedly done with demons for both this life and the next, if they could help it (not that Muriel wanted anything to do with any of it in the first place, he was just glad it was over). It had been years in the practice of Alejandra’s new little traveling practice, years of occasionally working with Dr. Devorak and a freshly built coop for the chickens with a large garden round back for all of her medicinal herbs, most of which had been picked, dried, or mixed up and stowed away before the snow could take them. 

All in all, it felt like their world had been set upright again, as it should have been-- and now, Alejandra, Muriel, Asra, and all of their friends were free to simply just live in it. 

Be it demons or the stochastic will of the universe though-- Muriel didn’t want to know which-- he knew it wouldn’t last. Demons were going to demon, and what came up must come back down eventually, though he’d pray not in the form of organ-stealing or mystical-interdimensional-trapping shenanigans, merely the endless, predictable drift of snowflakes, blankets thick as the fur they huddled under for warmth at night, muffling any echo of a wish for Spring. 

As the days grew shorter, nights grew longer and longer for Alejandra, who it seemed was caring for the entire city in the dead of winter. That’s how it was; the prolonged cold brought more sickness than usual, slowing recoveries and increasing the time for flu to spread as everyone had to work harder in the day to stay their warm, comfortable nights. Nights where Muriel fell asleep before her return, once rare, were slowly becoming the norm. 

Not that it bothered him much. Her work was important. He’d only wished she’d rest, lest she catch something herself. 

Even when she wasn’t seeing patients, she was working. Scribbling notes, grinding herbs, mixing medicines, and worrying, always worrying, over someone he neither knew or wanted to know about. It was the same familiar, almost nostalgic sort of worry he’d been the subject of long ago, an especially bittersweet memory for him to recall. She’d lost the memory altogether, and he would never retell it in stunning detail, but he loved her all the same for it. 

This might have been where it started, really; the silent appreciation as he pretends to be asleep while listening to her mutterings and musings over notes in the dim candlelight of their hut, the odd, foreign want to do more for her. 

~X~ 

The next thing he knows, he is trudging through the slushy cobblestones of Vesuvia, paying an old friend a surprise visit. An idea had taken root, and now he is sure that the gift he is preparing would be of some use. 

A bell chimes as he shoulders his way through the too-small door of Asra’s shop. The snowy haired magician is leaning against the main counter, eyes trained on an open book, one hand hovering over the stove salamander, which had been moved from the kitchen to heat the space. 

“Muriel! What brings you here?” Asra perks up at the sight of his old friend. Muriel imagines if he actually had the ears of a fox, they’d be trained directly forward, twitching with curiosity. 

“I...need a favor. A spell. If you can do it.” Rare, but not unusual. Asra was a dependable person, and if anyone could cast this spell, it was him.

“Oh?”

~X~ 

Once the plan had been set, all there was left to do was wait. 

And worry. He wasn’t even sure if this was going to work, this season had been so harsh on everything, it would have been entirely possible that things would fall through, one of the many pieces he'd put together was bound to fail somehow, right?

Most evenings were quiet. He’d keep to himself, whittling at a piece of wood and listening to the cadence of her mutterworry as she worked, working up the courage to say something. 

She didn’t seem too tired today. They could go for a walk. 

But what if they hadn’t sprouted yet? Maybe they did, he could have sworn he’d seen speckles of green last night. It would be fine, something about the thought that counted, something Asra reminded him of as he gathered his nerve. 

“.....We’re almost out of ingredients aren’t we. For your medicine. Especially the Rudbekia root.” 

“I know,” Alejandra replies, running a hand through her tousle of black locks, her tired gaze just a little out of his reach. “I don’t suppose Nadia would be able to send for some, or I could go North myself, see if they-- oh, no, but I need to be here…” 

Muriel watches as her eyes focus and unfocus, slipping back into her own tired thoughts without so much as a goodbye. He waits for her to get close enough to shore to pull her back, eyes softening. He didn’t like seeing her this way, but this was how he remembered her the best. 

“I have something to show you.” 

~X~

“In here,” Muriel stated simply after a short walk, albeit far off their usual paths throughout the forest, ducking into a hidden occlusion in a rather strange pile of rocks.

The cave was a godsend on long evenings, but he couldn’t take credit for its discovery-- Inanna had led him there after he’d accidentally fallen through an icy pond once. It was small, as was everything to him, but cozy, containing a steaming hot spring that warmed the entire space, a pocket of respite in the unforgiving cold without ever having to dip a toe in the water. There was a slight incline at the entrance, from where he’d spread soil throughout, its surface moist with steam. A glimmering orb of light hung in one corner, acting as a sort of artificial sun. If you squinted, you might be able to discern some green from the black, the beginnings of sprouts in certain quadrants. 

“There’s not a lot right now, but it’s a start.” Muriel put a hand on Alejandra’s shoulder. “You helped me. So I’ll help everyone else, too.”


End file.
